In the Absence of Lily
by M.A. Blackthorn
Summary: James. Sirius. Lily. What to do with a love triangle comprised of three friends? Chapter 4 uploaded!
1. Stolen Moment

Disclaimer - Sirius, James, Lily, and Gryffindor are property of Ms. J.K. Rowling and Scholastic. Their rampaging hormones have been borrowed. I own nothing but the plot.  
  
A/N - Slashiness ahead, so homophobes, you'd better duck and cover. This is my first slash fic, not to mention my first HP fic (and I'm actually kind of happy with it), so I would really appreciate reviews. Thanks. On with the show.   
  
  
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An involuntary sigh escaped him as a hand deftly ran through his hair, gently, but firmly, pulling him closer.   
  
"Sirius . . . I can't . . . "  
  
He found it hard to continue speaking when his friend brought his face closer to his. Warm breath tingled his cheek, causing him to become more flushed than he already was. The hand that had been cupping the back of his head, slowly moved down his neck, then his back, meticulously tracing his spine. A soft groan formed in his throat as he felt his friend - or was it lover? - lightly trace circles on the small of his back. The hand ceased its tickling ministrations and he felt himself being pulled even closer to the other boy's body.   
  
"Oh, god . . . Sirius, no . . . "  
  
Again, his pleas fell on deaf ears as the pressure on his back remained, bringing him those last few inches closer until his hips made contact with the other boy's. He felt his growing hardness brush against the thick fabric that was separating their flesh. Beneath that barrier, Sirius' arousal was unmistakably lightly brushing his. The contact, however light, illicited another groan.   
  
"Sirius, what about Lily . . . think about --"   
  
Before he could continue, a finger was gently placed on his lips, silencing him.   
  
"Don't say anything, James Potter. Just be quiet and . . . enjoy it."   
  
With that, Sirius placed a featherlight kiss on James' jaw. He continued to plant kisses along this side of his face until he reached his ear. James was already moaning audibly, with the combined sensations of his erection being rubbed against Sirius' and the feel of the other boy's lips on his skin. The last, flimsy grip he had on coherent thought was lost as he felt Sirius' warm tongue dart out and lick his earlobe. He gave in to him, wrapping his arms around the other boy's waist and fully pressing his body against Sirius, leaving no space between them.   
  
James felt Sirius sigh and wrap his arms around his shoulders, planting the same light kisses on his forehead, his lips finally coming to rest on his temple.   
  
James buried his face in Sirius' shoulder, turning his head slightly to nuzzle the soft flesh of his neck. I shouldn't be doing this . . . I have to think about Lily. No matter how hard he willed himself to bring a picture of her up in his mind, nothing could stop his body's reactions to Sirius' touch. He had tried telling himself it was wrong, disgusting, repulsive, but he couldn't bring himself to believe any of it. Denial was so much simpler when Sirius was away from him, but the second his friend turned those dark, deep eyes on him, James thought he could just drown in them.   
  
He held Sirius' body tighter, trying to pull him as close as possible. He no longer felt the need to deny him or push him away. This felt right, perfect. He loved Lily, of course, but she had never made him feel this way. Sirius always had that effect on him. He felt safe, warm, loved. Nothing could go wrong when he was with Sirius. Like this. He let out a content sigh and placed a gentle kiss on the pulse in Sirius' throat, then let his head drop on to the other boy's shoulder again.   
  
"James! James, where are you?"  
  
Lily's voice drifted through the dormitory door from the Gryffindor common room. He and Sirius hastily pulled away from each other, but not before leaning in for one last kiss.   
  
Lily stepped into the dorm and smiled when she saw James. The way her face lit up brought a pang of guilt to James' conscience. As long as she doesn't find out . . ., he said to himself, silently. The thought brought no comfort.   
  
"What are you two doing, locked up in here? Up to no good again?" She said, innocently unaware.  
  
James and Sirius shared a look of mutual understanding and James nodded.  
  
"Yeah . . . something like that."  
  
  
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A/N - I might end it here. I might not. I could continue it. It all depends on my mood and my feedback. Please review . . . pleeaase? With a cherry on top? I would love you forever and give you candy canes and such. ^_^  
  
-M.A. Blackthorn  



	2. Guilty Conscience

Disclaimer: Characters and places belong to J.K. Rowling. Not me. Her. Not me. Her. The plot is mine. Not hers. Mine. Not hers. Mine. Get it? Goodie.  
  
A.N. - If you read this, you're spiritually obligated to review. HAHAHAHAHA. Okay, maybe not. But I would appreciate it if you did. Thanks. This chapter is dedicated to my friend, Amanda. Without her bugging me about it, I probably wouldn't have gotten this chapter out for months.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
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Ch. 2 James' Addiction  
  
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"Jamie, is something bothering you?"  
  
James mumbled an intelligible response into Lily's hair. The last thing he felt like doing at the moment was talking about his feelings. They were complex enough, as is. He didn't' need anyone else's unwanted input.  
  
"What was that, Jamie?"  
  
James leaned his head against the back of the scarlet couch in the Gryffindor common room. The scarlet couch on which he was sitting, with Lily cuddled onto his lap. The position would have been comfortable and even pleasing, if his thoughts hadn't been occupied with someone else. He hadn't seen Sirius since that morning, but he had thought about him every minute since. The thoughts of his best friend made him feel guilty, especially when he was in the presence of his girlfriend of a year and three months, Lily Evans.  
  
"I said, nothing. I'm just . . . tired."  
  
Lily looked at him with a concerned expression, but she wisely chose not to pursue the subject. For that, James was thankful. How did one go about explaining to his girlfriend that he was feeling overwhelming romantic urges towards his best friend who happened to be male? 'Hi, sweetie, not that it's your fault, but I think I'm in love with a guy, instead of you. So, how's your day been?' James didn't think Lily would find that explanation adequate, so he refrained.  
  
He sighed and leaned into Lily, resting his cheek on the top of her head. The fact that he desired someone other than her still baffled him. She was beautiful, of course, probably the best-looking girl in the whole school and most likely, the smartest. Her fiery red hair seemed to have hundreds of different shades and highlights when under light. Her emerald eyes had an appearance of such luminance that they looked like they were lit from behind. She had perfect teeth, too, not to mention, impeccable hygiene. In other words, she was perfect. Every man's fantasy. Every man . . . except James. 'Every straight man,' he thought.  
  
Never in James' wild dreams did he picture himself falling hopelessly in love with a man, much less his best friend. 'But how can it be love?,' he silently thought, his conscious mind wandering back to the girl lying in his arms, her head trustingly resting against his chest. He loved her, that much was certain. And he knew that she loved him. Was it possible to love two individuals simultaneously? James didn't think so, but he could draw no other conclusion concerning his emotions at present.  
  
'Unless, of course, it isn't love at all,' James thought with a mental snort. He had often entertained the idea that he was simply "in lust" with Sirius. It would make sense. Every girl in school wanted a piece of his best friend. Hell, James even knew of some male students that did, too. After all, who wouldn't? Sirius was the embodiment of physical perfection. The image of a ancient golden god made human. He was a sculptor's dream. A strong jaw, accompanied by defined, angular cheekbones gave him a daring aristocratic appearance. His eyes were such a dark brown that they occasionally appeared black and always had a sparkle of mischief in them. James knew, better than anyone, that Sirius' eyes held much more than that. He had seen them clouded with desire, shining with unshed tears, and full with concern for his friends. He had seen facets of Sirius' personality that the other boy would never dare show anyone else.  
  
He was fairly certain that he didn't want to love Sirius. Or did he? His experience in matters concerning love and romance was limited to Lily and Sirius and that provided him with no helpful knowledge. What he needed was advice but who could he go to? Certainly not Peter, that was completely out of the question. The boy was simply too dense. He had his redeeming qualities, of course, but nothing that could come to James' aid. Remus might understand, but he had a tendency to become overly analytical. Besides, James didn't want to force Remus into an awkward situation. What could be more awkward than having your two best friends groping each other during random stolen moments, and hear every detail about it? 'No . . .' James thought, 'I'll have to deal with this myself.' It was the only way he could see to sort out the tangle his love life had become.  
  
Lily yawned, interrupting his thoughts. She uncurled herself from his lap and smiled at him, her eyes full of questions left unsaid. James knew he was acting strangely, but right now, he knew no other way to act.  
  
"James," she began, abandoning her pet name for him. She only did that when she was about to say something serious. Whatever it was, James was not looking forward to it. "You know I love you, right?"  
  
'This is the last thing I need right now,' he thought silently. He said aloud, "Of course, I do, Lily." He took her hand, the motion practically automatic.  
  
"I know something's bothering you, and if you don't want to talk about it . . . well . . . that's okay. I can respect that," Lily said. She bit her lip and looked away from him. She continued, "I need you to understand that no matter what it is, James, you know you can come to about it, okay? I mean, I don't like seeing you unhappy. I'm hear to listen." She looked back at him and smiled. "What else are girlfriends for?"  
  
'That was unexpected,' James thought, 'If only she knew what was really on my mind.' He didn't fancy letting her find out.  
  
"I know, Lily . . . I know."  
  
Lily's smile was gentle and so obviously full of love that it made James' heart ache. He wished her faith in him wasn't so unwavering.  
  
She leaned into him, placing one delicate hand on his chest. James could feel her breath on his face. He reached out to her, placing his hand on the back of her neck. They both moved towards each other until their lips softly collided. He could feel the movement of her lips against his. Her tongue slid along side his, and he noticed that she tasted slightly like chocolate. 'She must have had some after dinner,' he thought absently. Lily pulled away, smiling at him. She kissed him again, this time chastely.  
  
"I'm gonna get going to bed now. 'Night, James." She kissed his cheek and got up from the couch. James watched her retreating figure as she left the room.  
  
'What am I going to do?' he thought. At that moment, Sirius entered the common room.  
  
  
  
  
  
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A.N. - Don't you just hate endings like that? Fear not, the next chapter will come out soon. As usual, it all depends on the feedback I receive. *wink wink*  
  
  
  
- M.A. Blackthorn  
  
  



	3. Temporary Paradise

A.N. - See first and second chapters for disclaimers. Writing them again would be redundant. Please review.  
  
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Chapter 3 Temporary Paradise  
  
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He knew the library would be the perfect place to hide. Anyone who even assumed they knew the most minuscule bit about Sirius Black would never think to look here. What he needed right now was solitude and seclusion, and this was the place to find it. The imperfect silence of the library was interrupted only by the whisper of paper as pages of volumes were turned, their words perused by the diligent students who had opted to stay in and study rather than enjoy the clear air and sunshine of a mild Saturday afternoon.  
  
A few heads had turned when he cautiously crept through the library doors. He could easily interpret the question written on their inquisitive faces. What was he doing here? Why would Sirius Black, of all people, be seen here, of all places? His only response was a winning smile that made most of the students divert their curious glances, blushes tinting a few cheeks. A pair of bubbly third year girls even bowed their heads, attempting in vain to mask their giggles and whispers.  
  
Sirius knew he was handsome, charming even. After all, his charms had successfully worked on the one person he would have thought the hardest to seduce. James. The simple thought of the simple name discomfited Sirius and he slouched further in the uncomfortable wooden seat He raised the book he had randomly plucked from the library shelf to feign the act of studying to hide his face, lest someone should notice his complete disinterest in the text. He focused on the words for the first time and noticed that they were in fact upside down. He quickly righted the book, hoping no one had noticed his minor indiscretion. He was trying to look as inconspicuous as possible.  
  
He came to this studious location to think and think, he did. He thought, but not about the pressing matter at hand, the thought that was causing restless nights as he listened to the breathing of his dorm mates, the question of what he was going to do about his . . . relationship . . . with James. No, he wasn't thinking about that at all. Rather, he was thinking about his lips, his hands, his hair, his skin, his eyes . . . those goddamned cursedly beautiful eyes that said so much when their owner's words said so little, those eyes that had ensnared Sirius upon first sight, first contact. Although he hadn't understood it then, he sure as hell understood it now. It was those devastating eyes that led to his downfall.  
  
He never meant for it to get this far. He honestly hadn't. 'But you always were a sucker for a great set of eyes,' he berated himself. It was more than that, though, much more and try as he might, he simply could not deny it. He had needed someone and so had James. That was how it started. It had been almost ridiculous in its simplicity. He had come upon James at the most inopportune of moments. James had been crying. Not chest heaving, gut wrenching sobs, but silent, steady tears that fell unnoticed as he lay on his bed. He had asked what was wrong, in the fashion of any decent best friend. For the first time in their friendship, James had said nothing. Not a whisper. He simply turned onto his side, offering only his back to Sirius as a response. In other words, he all but screamed, "Go away!" Just not in so many words.  
  
He still was unsure if what he had done next had been the right thing. 'Maybe, if I hadn't, I wouldn't be having these problems right now,' he thought. It was nothing more than wishful thinking and he knew it and accepted it.  
  
After James had turned his back to him, he knew no amount of verbal prodding would get it out of him. If James didn't want to tell him something, he wouldn't. He was just that stubborn. It was something Sirius both loved and loathed. James could be such a colossal pain in the ass when he put his mind to it.  
  
Sirius did the only thing he could. At least the only thing he thought he could have done. Thinking back on the situation now, there were probably dozens of alternative courses of action he could have chosen, but at the moment, all those possibilities had eluded him, leaving him with but one choice, probably quite unwise.  
  
He had crawled into bed with James, pressing his body against the other boy's, his chest pressed to the other's back, their bodies meeting in one uninterrupted line. James stiffened for a brief moment, but relaxed within seconds. They had done this plenty of times as children, but within the past few years, they had distanced themselves, falling into the expected behavior that was the norm. Sirius had forgotten what wonders a comforting touch could do for his best friend. James had always been somewhat reliant on touch as means of communication. Apparently nothing had changed these past few years.  
  
Sirius rested his head on James neck, not saying anything, completely unwilling to disturb the comfortable silence that had fallen on them. 'What I wouldn't give to lay here for hours,' he thought to himself, his arms snugly wrapped around James' middle, feeling the rise and fall of the other boy's chest as he held him. There was a change in James' breathing, it became more ragged and forced. Sirius knew he was crying harder now. He lifted his face so that his lips rested by the other boy's ear.  
  
"What's wrong?" he whispered.  
  
James didn't respond. He shifted his weight, rotated his body so that his front was now pressed against Sirius, his head resting beneath Sirius' chin. Sirius placed a kiss on top of James' hopelessly messy hair. A purely platonic kiss. Honestly.  
  
"If you don't tell me what's wrong, I can't help you," he said, trying to coax something out of James.  
  
James sniffled, the sound muffled against the fabric of Sirius' sweater. He wrapped his arms tighter around Sirius' torso, burying his face into the other's neck.  
  
"You'll make fun of me," he said, the words almost impossible to decipher.  
  
"Oh come on now, would I do such a thing? Actually . . . don't answer that," Sirius said. He was rewarded with a small chuckle from James.  
  
"It's stupid," James said, raising his head a few inches so his blue eyes locked with Sirius' brown ones.  
  
"If it was so stupid, you wouldn't be crying," Sirius replied. Ah . . . ever the voice of reason.  
  
James abandoned eye contact, opting to stare at the inch of collarbone that was visible, uncovered by Sirius' sweater.  
  
"It's Lily, but it's not anything she did. She's just . . . I don't know. Hopelessly girly," James said, "whenever she has a problem, she always comes running to me, as if I'm supposed to fix everything and make it all sunny and perfect again. I can't do that. And it's not just that. She's always telling me that I can go to her whenever I'm having a problem, but I know it isn't true. She means well and everything, but I'm not sure she'd be able to handle the burden of my own worries and fears. It's sort of an unspoken agreement. I'm the rock and she's the one that does all the leaning."  
  
The words came out of James in a rush and it took Sirius a full minute to digest them. He never would have guessed that James was concerned about such a thing. Never. He had always viewed his best friend as the type to keep his problems to private, much like himself. 'Guess you don't know your own best friend as well you thought you did. Maybe you should work on paying a little more attention,' said an accusatory voice in his head. 'Oh stuff it,' Sirius thought in return.  
  
His grip on James tightened and James returned the much needed contact. Sirius ran a hand through James' hair, noticing the way in which the other boy closed his eyes and all but purred at the caress. 'Interesting,' Sirius thought.  
  
James was not finished. "It's just . . . I'm tired of being alone, Sirius. I know I'm not, really, but sometimes it feels that way. Kinda like I have no shoulder to cry on when I need it the most."  
  
Feigning offense, Sirius pinched James' side. "Excuse me, Mr. Ingrate? And what am I to you?"  
  
James actually giggled, a very foreign sound, and said, "A friend. A very good friend. Too good of a friend, actually. Gee whiz, Sirius, I don't think I deserve you."  
  
"Don't say that," Sirius said, smiling, "You deserve so much more." James' evaluation warmed him to the core. It was times like these, that although few and far between, that made him realize just how much James meant to him.  
  
The laughter gradually faded from James' expression, but instead of reverting back to his mask of sadness, it was replaced by a pensive, thoughtful look, as if he was considering something very important and not at all unpleasant.  
  
"What's on your mind?" Sirius asked.  
  
Rather than replying with a vocal response, James leaned in and unexpectedly placed a whisper of a kiss on Sirius' chin. Sirius had been caught off guard and couldn't formulate an appropriate response. The only thought that crossed his mind had been that James' lips were rather soft.  
  
"I'm not alone, am I, Sirius?" James asked, his face so close to Sirius' that his lips brushed his skin with every word.  
  
Sirius had to swallow twice before he could answer, hoping against hope that James hadn't noticed his rather carnal reaction below his waist to the feel of his lips on his skin.  
  
'Best to be honest,' Sirius thought. Out loud, he said, "No . . . you're not alone. Never alone."  
  
And that's when it happened. Neither one of them gave their actions much thought prior to doing it, much less offer an explanation as to why they did, exactly. Before Sirius could register what was happening, his lips were on James' mouth, his tongue tracing the curve of the other boy's bottom lip, seeking entry and getting it. Coherent thought ceased to exist and words became unnecessary as their tongues slid against each other, each seeking solace and comfort on the others touch. It was only the mutual need for oxygen that forced them to separate, but given the chance, both would have had no complaints whatsoever to remaining joined as they had been.  
  
Sirius looked into James' eyes as the other boy did the same. There was so much to say and no words with which to say it. They both understood without having to vocalize their thoughts. The look they shared spoke volumes itself. It said, 'I have you and you have me and that's all we really need.' And it was the truth, put in its simplest form. The basic need for human contact and comfort had been satisfied and neither one of them was willing to give it up.  
  
'And that's the problem,' Sirius thought, returning from his reverie and finding himself back in the school library, rather than cuddled up with James in their shared dormitory. He didn't want to give up James and he was fairly certain that James felt the same. Otherwise, why would he have bothered to come back to Sirius' waiting arms again and again.  
  
'Not that I'm complaining,' Sirius said to himself, smirking ever so slightly. James certainly was warm and cuddly and an amazing kisser. His only qualm with their relationship was that James was still with Lily. It was a minor jealousy, but jealousy all the same. He couldn't very well ask James to break up with Lily. That was completely out of the question. The last thing he would do was to place his James in the position of choosing between to the two people he loved most. There wasn't a doubt in Sirius' mind that James loved Lily. He knew James loved him as well. That was the part that made the whole situation unbearable. James loved them both, in his own ways. Sirius knew James needed him and he supposed he needed James, too.  
  
He wasn't quite ready to sacrifice their relationship, but there was a nagging doubt in his mind. Was this really best for James? He might want Sirius to snuggle up with him at night, but it was obvious that they couldn't continue this charade forever. Although Sirius could picture himself spending his days as a bachelor, the same wasn't true for James. 'He's such a dog, baby, and white picket fence sort of guy,' Sirius thought, 'I can't give him that.'  
  
Sirius knew they had to talk. He wasn't quite sure if he would be willing to share James forever. Sooner or later, his jealousy would consume him and he would propose an ultimatum to James. Him or Lily. He didn't want it to have to come to that. There was only one thing for him to do and it was quite obvious. He and James needed to have a heart to heart and make a decision. Anything else would drive Sirius mad, if he wasn't there already.  
  
Sirius extracted himself from the wooden library chair, taking no notice of the screeching sound the legs made as they scratched along the floor and giving no heed to the irritated and inquisitive glances sent in his direction. He had a purpose and he needed to find get it over with.  
  
He left the library, with an efficiency in his stride, and made his way to the common room, where he hoped James would be waiting.  
  
  
  
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A.N. - I apologize for taking so long to get this chapter out. My life has been horridly busy and I only recently found the time and energy to write this. I hope you enjoyed it and I beg and grovel for your reviews.  
  
~ M.A. Blackthorn 


	4. Unintentional Envy

Title: In the Absence of Lily (4) 

Author: M.A. Blackthorn 

E-Mail: ArtemisMG750@yahoo.com 

Genre: Slash Romance 

Keywords: James Potter, Sirius Black, Slash, Romance, MWPP 

Rating: R (slash, sexual situations) 

Spoilers: SS, CoS, PoA, and possibly, in the future, OotP 

Summary: Sirius and James find comfort in each other. The only problem is that James is dating Lily. What's to be done with a love triangle made up of three best friends? 

Disclaimers - This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by J.K. Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended. The only thing I own is the plot. I'm just a fan paying my tribute. 

A/N - Once again, I beg and grovel for reviews of any sort, except the ones that waste your time and mine. It's what keeps me writing. I realize I haven't written in over a year and I wholeheartedly apologize to anyone who was waiting for this chapter. After an extended period of writer's block and literary frustration, I've renewed my motivation. This chapter is dedicated to friend and editor, A.L. Caraway. Without her, this story would have hit the recycle bin ages ago. Thanks, dude. Read her fics. They are spiffy. And so ends my shameless promotional plug for the day, thank you very much, I'll be here all week.   
  


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Chapter 4: Unintentional Envy 

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The Fat Lady was nowhere to be found. 

Sirius stood outside the Gryffindor portrait hole, tapping his foot impatiently. What right did the paintings have to go traipsing around the castle? He had important things that needed to be done. He was a man on a mission. 

From his inspired departure from the library to his agonizing wait for the guardian of Gryffindor Tower, he had wracked his brain trying to think of what to say to James. He knew they needed to talk, but he couldn't seem to find the right words. How would one go about explaining to his part-time boyfriend that he was jealous of his full-time girlfriend? 

The answer eluded Sirius. That elusiveness had charged into his state of self-righteous indignation like a stallion gone mad, trampling the vestiges of his confidence beneath its cloven hooves. 

The last thing he wanted was to hurt James, that much was certain, but he didn't want to feel as though he was walking on eggshells either. He needed to find a compromise. However, succeeding in the arena of compromise without falling into the well of sacrifice seemed to be more improbable than escaping the situation with his emotional stability intact. 

The Fat Lady sauntered back into her portrait, as always, stretching the seams of her abhorrent frilly gown. 

"Password?" She squawked. 

"Fluxweed," Sirius responded. 

The portrait swung open, revealing a hole in the wall illuminated by firelight. Sirius had a curious feeling inside his stomach, as though he'd just swallowed a Filibuster Firework. 

When he stepped inside, he was greeted by an almost empty common room. There was a solitary person seated in one of the overstuffed scarlet couches. Said person's back was to Sirius, but he could identify that unruly mop of hair from a mile away. James was oblivious to the intruder. He sat, unmoving, gazing into the softly blazing flame in the fireplace.   
  


Not knowing where to start, Sirius opted for the simple approach.   
  


"Hey," he said.   
  


James started, whatever reverie in which he had been lost, interrupted. His knee banged into the cherry wood coffee table, sending two glass candle holders noisily clattering to the floor. Both boys winced. They waited in silence, eyes on the entrance from the dormitory bed rooms to see if the clatter had roused any of their housemates. Silence. A mutual sigh of relief from two mouths.   
  


James, recovering from the mild shock, shot Sirius a look. "How long have you been standing there?"   
  


"Fifteen seconds tops, I swear," Sirius responded. He didn't think starting this conversation with James already irritated with him was the way to go. Call it a gut instinct.   
  


A second silence followed, as uncomfortable as the first, but for a vastly different reason.   
  


"Well?"   
  


"What? Oh." Sirius had hardly noticed he had been staring at James for precious, drawn out seconds. Five, ten, twenty, he didn't know.   
  


Sirius swallowed, trying to ease the lump in his throat. This had been badly orchestrated. He had marched out the library, full of purpose, expecting to throw the options down in front of James and demand an immediate decision. Now, being silently interrogated by James' questioning eyes, he was beginning to discover that the execution of his plan would be far more complicated.   
  


Sirius walked to the couch, positioning himself so that he was standing in front of James, the coffee table between them. He looked down at his feet unsure of what to say. The swirly wood patterns on the floor had suddenly become insanely interesting. He vaguely wandered why he'd never noticed that before.   
  


"Sirius," James said, "something's bothering you. What is it?"   
  


'No,' Sirius thought. He wasn't going to let James fall into the role of loving boyfriend. It was too easy to succumb to him that way. He took a few tentative steps toward the plush sofa. Unsure of what else he should do, he sat next to James, their knees touching lightly. 

James leaned into him, wrapping his arm around Sirius' waist. His hand gently squeezed the area beneath his ribs. He interpreted the lack of movement from the other boy as a clearance, a quiet admission to proceed. James placed a tentative kiss on the side of Sirius' neck, lingering above the butterfly pulse in his neck, waiting for the other boy to do something, anything, but what that was Sirius could not decipher.   
  


Sirius turned his head to James to tell him to stop. That same moment, James lifted his face to Sirius. Their noses collided with the slightest hint of pain. Two boys retreated naught but an inch, smiling shyly, both suddenly nervous, equally perplexed, neither understanding why.   
  


"Was Lily just here?" Sirius asked, voice trembling an octave higher than it should have been. His eyes looked everywhere but into those of the other boy. His left eyebrow, the hairs dusting his forehead, his ears, the faint freckles decorating the bridge of his nose, the slight pout of his bottom lip . . . no. He was entering territory he dared not venture. The aesthetic appeal of James Potter would not sink its hooks, however unwittingly, into Sirius Black.   
  


A puzzled look flitted across James' face. "Why?"   
  


"Oh. No reason in particular. I think -- you know -- we should have a policy."   
  


"A policy?"   
  


"Yeah . . . you know. A policy. Like a time limit between Lily time and Sirius time. Break up the intervals, you know? Give you time to get your bearings."   
  


James blinked in response. "What?"   
  


Sirius forced the toad that had somehow lodged itself in his throat down with one strong swallow.   
  


"Well, you see . . . I was in the library and -- I was thinking about Lily and -- maybe we should -- maybe YOU should -- for the best -- this isn't a good idea."   
  


James pulled back from him, snaking his arm away from Sirius. The spot where it had been was suddenly cold, despite the warmth emanating from the fire.   
  


"As a matter of fact, Lily was just here," James said, his voice carefully calculated, much like that of an asylum nurse, "but why would that -- I don't understand what -- why would you say that?"   
  


Sirius shrugged. He knew he was being futile and childish. He liked being futile and childish. He did not want to stop being futile and childish. His thoughts were playing a tug of war, raging an internal battle, throwing little emotional grenades at each other, vying to see who would win control of the citadel otherwise known as Sirius' heart. The reasonable side torpedoed the enemy, beating it into submission and hoisted its victory flag.   
  


"I just -- I want -- the thing is -- you see, it's like -- I have no clue." So much for that idea.   
  


"Sirius . . . listen," James said, "if there's something wrong, you can tell me, okay?" James lightly touched Sirius' chin, turning the other boy's face to his. "Okay?"   
  


James had opened the door, given him an opportunity to voice what had been going on inside his head. Now was not the time to hesitate.   
  


"Alright. I've been thinking . . ." Sirius took a deep breath, "for a little while now, I've been feeling a little . . . taken for granted." James opened his mouth to protest. Sirius silenced him with a look. "Let me finish."   
  


James obeyed his request, but an aura of rebellion oozed from his pores.   
  


"Not only have I been feeling like you take me for granted . . . I've been feeling a little jealous." Again, James tried to speak. Sirius charged on, dauntless, take no prisoners. Yeah. Right.   
  


"Please, James. Listen. I know when we started this whole thing, I told you I was cool with you staying with Lily. I never asked you to break up with her or anything because I knew it would have been violating some sort of unspoken agreement we made that day. You would be with Lily, but I would take care of you in ways she couldn't or wouldn't or whatever. And I was okay with that. I was willing to overlook the fact that I wasn't the only person you were kissing . . ."   
  


Sirius trailed off, leaving the rest of the thought to die, unspoken. He'd opened the flood gates of his heart, allowing his thus far silent suffering to pour out, drowning the nervousness and fear of confrontation. He didn't want to say something he would later regret, but he didn't want to hold back either. He'd been staring at the mud-caked laces of his boots while his mouth had run away with him. It was hard for him to turn his head, to raise his eyes to meet those of the boy sitting next to him. He felt like he was weighted down. James stared back at him, the corners of his mouth turned down in a confused frown. His brow was furrowed, causing little wrinkles to appear on his forehead. Sirius brutally beat down the urge to reach out his hand and smooth the skin of James' face.   
  


"What are you trying to say, Sirius?"   
  


The lump in his throat was back with a vengeance. He vaguely wondered what physical phenomenon allowed that to happen.   
  


"What I'm trying to say is --" Sirius stopped. Once he said exactly what he was trying to say, there was no turning back, no erasing the words. They would hang in the air between them, suspended by forces over which he had no control. He gave James a steady look, taking in the rumpled hair, the crystalline blue eyes, the pale skin, the set of his lips, the way his glasses had a tendency to slip down the bridge of his nose, the lithe frame built from years of Quidditch training, and the hands that somehow retained their elegance despite the callouses decorating the flesh. The little voice in the back of his head whispered quite loudly for something incongruously called "the little voice." It whispered to him, 'Would you risk all that?' Sirius grudgingly forced himself to answer the damnable little voice, 'Yes.'   
  


"Things change, James, people change. What I'm trying to say is -- you can't expect something to stay the same forever. I've changed my mind about you and Lily. I don't like it. Well, I mean, I never liked it, but now I really don't like it."   
  


James, whose body had been lightly touching Sirius', scooted away from him, moving his body on the other side of the sofa. The look he gave Sirius was one of confusion and hurt, but worst of all: betrayal.   
  


"What are you saying, Sirius? Get to the point." James' voice was like tempered steel.   
  


"The point is . . . I'm sick of it," Sirius said, his voice increasing in force. He seized whatever confidence he could, wrapping it around him like a shroud, wondering if it would be thick enough to shield him from the invisible arrows of James' hurt. He was taken aback by the display of victimized emotions. Sirius was not betraying James. He would never betray him. He had promised him that much. He continued, "I'm sick of being the fallback guy. I don't want it to be like that, James --"   
  


"Then what do you want it to be like? Do you want me to make a choice between you and Lily? Is that what you want?"   
  


The situation had quickly and efficiently escalated into the precise collision of emotions Sirius had desperately wanted to avoid.   
  


"James, no, just listen --"   
  


"You promised. You promised me you wouldn't get jealous." Tears had begun to leave wet trails down James' cheeks. The sight was enough to send the carefully constructed wall of resolve Sirius had surrounded himself with to the ground. He slid closer to James, reaching out his hand to the other boy's face. Sirius touched the tear stained face, but James brushed his hand away. For a brief moment, both boys looked at each other. The simplest action harbored the most monumental effect. Never before had James scorned comfort from Sirius.   
  


The self-righteous indignation that had been so apparent in James' expression vanished, leaving a countenance of pain and something else, something Sirius would not have suspected. Fear. Sirius had not bothered taking into account what he would be saying to James other than 'make a decision.' He had unknowingly and regrettably frightened him. Within the context of his words, there existed a veiled threat. He had proposed an ultimatum. If James decided to let go of Sirius, he would also be letting go of not only a part-time boyfriend, but a best friend, a confidant, a shoulder to cry on. Where does a flower turn to when the sun has taken its leave?   
  


"No, James, no. That's not what I meant," Sirius said, stumbling over his own words. He did not know how to comfort James. A thousand emotions wrestled within him. Disgust, Sorrow. Despair. Helplessness. He had single-handedly dismantled the cocoon of safety, love, and comfort he had spun around himself and James. The fragility of their relationship had escaped him. He had smashed it into diminutive pieces of shattered glass.   
  


"James, listen to me," Sirius said as he tried to take James' hand in his. There was no longer any space available for James to scuttle further away on the couch. He stood, leaving Sirius alone on the sofa.   
  


"Just -- don't touch me. Not right now. I just -- I don't understand. Why . . .?" James looked down at Sirius, who was still sitting. Blue eyes stared into brown ones, both knowing the answer, neither wanting to say it.   
  


"I can't do this anymore, James. I want to be there for you, but it's too hard --"   
  


"Don't give me that. You knew exactly what you were getting into when we started this. You knew I didn't want to dump Lily for you, you knew that I needed you. Don't act like this is all coming as a complete surprise to you. It's not." The words should have sounded angry, but James just sounded resigned. Sirius saw that he was uncomfortable, that he would rather be anywhere else but there. The sentiment was mutual.   
  


"James --"   
  


"Sirius --"   
  


Sirius sighed and that one breath carried out of his body his resolve, his steadfast desire to settle the matter. He was tired, but it was a fatigue that extended beyond the limitations of bone and muscle. His heart, his mind, these otherwise intangible entities shivered in exhaustion.   
  


"I don't want to do this."   
  


The phrase was spoken by two mouths, two sets of lips moving to form the words. The sentence echoed in the almost empty room, reverberating off the walls. Mirrors of each other in appearance, but different -- so very, undeniably different -- in meaning that neither boy knew what to say to fill the chasm that they had inadvertently, but at the same time, all too knowingly, dug between them. The blindfolds they had tied around their eyes, their minds, their hearts, to shield themselves from the stark nature of the truth, of reality, had begun to peel away and the process was irreversible.   
  


Sirius, unsure of what to do with himself, picked at a snag on the well worn sofa cushion. Standing, bringing himself level with James, seemed to aggressive. Fleeing to the safe, comfortable confines of his four poster in the dormitory was, without a doubt, too cowardly. He slid, slowly, along the couch, inviting James, without words, to sit back down.   
  


A pause. Sirius willed himself not to flinch under the steady gaze of two blue eyes, searching without a destination, questioning knowing no answer was readily available. The eyes moved away, diverting their attention to the empty place on the sofa. Sirius felt as though a cord that had been pulled too taught between the two had been severed. He did not know if it was wiser to feel relieved or frightened. He opted for neutrality.   
  


James sat down.   
  


Neither boy spoke, nor did they look at each other. Two pairs of eyes stared into the dying fire, watching distractedly as the embers faded, too long had they gone unkindled.   
  


"Sirius."   
  


The boy in question wrenched his eyes away from the fireplace, turning his head to view James in profile. He had given up on words, surrendered to the uncertainty that had been threatening to engulf him the moment he had stepped through the portrait hole. He had drowned. He had lost.   
  


"Let's not do this. Not tonight. Not now. Please."   
  


As James spoke, his eyes never strayed from the diminishing fire, but his hand inched its way across the sofa cushion, over Sirius' lap, and wrapped itself around the other boy's limp fingers. Sirius neither responded in kind, nor removed his hand from James' gentle grasp. He knew he had sorely underestimated James' powers of persuasion, even if the other boy was painfully unaware of his own strength.   
  


James finally turned to him, his eyes still engaged in that senseless search for truth, for freedom, for answers that Sirius did not possess, but wished to God he did. He had given in, buckled under the pressure, the unrelenting weight of James' need, his best friend's curious love. The battle had been lost, but the victory march would never pass, the trumpets would never sound. James' victory was a sullen one, a victory without trinkets or baubles to dazzle his opponent. It was bleak and cold, but at the same time, welcoming. Familiar. The fires that had been lit within Sirius while he had been calculating his seemingly careful plan in the library had nearly been extinguished. He stamped away at the vestiges of flame, knowing full well that he would not be able to squelch them, but nonetheless, trying.   
  


"If that's what you want, James . . . I can do it."   
  


James smiled, and it was like water to a man dying of thirst.   
  


"Thanks," was all he said. James gave Sirius' hand one gentle squeeze before he rose from his seat. Sirius watched his retreating figure as he headed towards to his bedroom, their bedroom.   
  


Sirius ran a hand through his hair and reclined on the sofa. The cushions were so soft, so welcoming. He soon found himself drifting away on the gentle sea of sleep, held afloat only by the single nagging thought of exactly what it was James expected him to do.   
  
  
  
  
  


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~   
  


A/N - It's been quite a while, hasn't it? Once again, you can thank A.L. Caraway, author of "I Never Promised You a Rose Garden" and other bits of insanity, for the continuation of this story. Her nagging convinced me that my habit of leaving things undone did nothing for my complexion.   
  


I also realize that in OotP, J.K. Rowling shared with us the true color of James' eyes (brown or hazel, I don't remember) and whatever they are, they're not blue. I began this story way before the book was released and it's too late to rectify that little detail.   
  


Feedback is always appreciated. Buckets of gratitude for all those who have reviewed this story.


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